Monday, October 27, 2014

Where is Jesus?

In the
recent dispute between eight faculty members and the administration at General Theological
Seminary (GTS), where is Jesus? In asking that question, I intentionally echo
the desire of a group of first century Greeks who approached the disciple
Philip saying, "We wish to see Jesus." That desire encapsulates the
hope that both inquirers and communicants still bring to the Church and
seminarians bring to their years in seminary. Where is Jesus in the dispute at
GTS?

On the
one hand, I am dismayed that the dissenting members of the faculty refused to
attend community worship services at GTS. Praying together defines who we are
as Episcopalians. I don't understand their decision not to teach classes. GTS
is presently a rather fragile institution, both in terms of its enrollment and
finances. Declining to teach seems a last ditch measure, akin to a strike that
poses an existential threat to a business. Clearly, the dissenting faculty members
appreciate the significance of their refusal to teach and believe that they
have good cause for taking such a dramatic action. Is there really no way to
speak prophetically, effectively, and pastorally? Regardless, I remain dismayed
by their decision not to join in corporate worship. Jesus teaches us to pray
for our enemies, those who hate us, those who persecute us, and even our fellow
Christians. Surely, all parties to this dispute are Christians who can pray
together, so that in the midst of the conflict, they might bear witness to
Jesus and the watching world might see him.

One of
the valuable characteristics of our corporate prayer is that our worship is
scripted, mostly in the Book of Common Prayer. This makes it difficult to use
the words or forms of prayer as a cudgel with which to beat persons with whom
we disagree. I understand people declining to receive Holy Communion, if one
does not feel in a state of grace. But disputants refusing to pray together? In
our various ministries of reconciliation, do we not encourage alienated parties
to pray together, to seek God's presence and wisdom?

On the
other hand, I am dismayed by the public actions of GTS's administration, both
its Dean-President and Board. My concern is not primarily with the details of
the dispute or potential solutions, but with seeing Jesus revealed in the
actions of GTS's leadership. Although I have read with interest the statements
issued by the Board and Dean, and those issued by the dissenting faculty, I
remain largely unaware of specifics. I do not know enough about GTS and its
problems to speculate intelligently about possible, let alone preferable or
optimal, ways to resolve the issues.

Leadership
consists of persuading other people to join in achieving the leader's goals or
vision. Jesus practiced servant leadership, a leadership style marked, in part,
by humility, honesty, genuine concern for others, healthy relationships, and
reconciliation. If the public statements of the Board and Dean express
humility, I confess to having failed to recognize that sentiment when I read
the documents. Relational difficulties usually entail missteps on both sides.
Servant leaders appropriately take the initiative (i.e., they lead) by honestly
acknowledging their missteps. Again, if communiqués
from the Dean and Board acknowledge missteps, I confess to having missed
it. Healing broken work relationships often begins by identifying common
ground, e.g., a shared commitment to Jesus, to GTS, to theological education,
etc. Identifying common ground does not involve hypocritically ignoring
differences; instead, finding common ground helps to build the trust and mutual
respect vital for people to cooperate in spite of sharp disagreements. Reconciliation—a
reuniting that presumes forgiveness and amendment of life—is a longer-term
endeavor that rests on a foundation of humility, honesty, and healthy
relationships.

The GTS
disputants appear to be polarized rather than reconciling with one another. Of
course, it is possible that GTS's leadership has been humble, honest about
their missteps, sought to heal broken relationships, and taken the first steps
toward reconciliation in private communications with the dissident faculty.
However, all I can see, and all that most Episcopalians and most people to whom
we are to show Jesus can see, is the public side of the dispute. I wonder how
many other observers are asking, Where is
Jesus?

As I wrote
the first draft of this post, The Most Rev. Frank Griswold had agreed to
mediate at a meeting between the GTS Board and dissident faculty members. That
meeting has now occurred. The Board, in a statement issued following its
October meeting, emphasized that forming leaders for the Church is GTS's
priority, reported that an independent investigation found insufficient
justification for terminating the Dean, invited the dissident faculty to
reconsider their position, and identified scriptures for meditation.

If the
Board's statement represents an early step in a long process toward healing and
reconciliation, I can see a trace of Jesus. However, that hope may be unduly
optimistic. The statement seems short on humility, acknowledges no missteps,
and does not highlight any common ground with the dissident faculty. In what is
now a very public dispute, at least some elements of those moves need to be
public in order to achieve reconciliation, healing, and show Jesus to a broken,
skeptical world.

Perhaps
what ails The Episcopal Church in general, and GTS in particular, is that we are
dim mirrors or poor imitators of Jesus. Replacing biblical literalism with a
progressive interpretation that incorporates advances in human knowledge from
the sciences, social sciences, and humanities has let the light of God shine
more clearly and fully in our lives. However, that shift has diminished our use
of explicitly biblical images and Christian theology, the language and concepts
that define Christians as a distinctive people. An invitation to meditate on
texts, included at the end of a statement and with no indication of how God's
light shining through those windows has changed the Board's thinking, can
easily appear as window dressing rather than as a substantive engagement with
scripture.

Switching
metaphors, maybe we (and I include myself in that we) are no longer very skilled at separating the wheat from the
chaff. We value the wheat of inclusivity and welcoming all, but confuse it with
the chaff of relativism. We value the wheat of rights, participatory democracy,
and community, but confuse it with the chaff of individualism. We value the
wheat of integrity, but confuse it with the chaff of unresolved conflict. We
value the wheat of loving others, but confuse it with the chaff of
self-fulfillment.